Bambi Never Wore Boots
by Emerald Kitten
Summary: Another twig snapped, this one louder than the last one. That second sound was all it took for the hunter to know it wasn't a deer out there in front of them. What it sounded like was a pair of boots trampling the underbrush. Last time he checked Bambi never wore boots. Written in response to the USS CARYL's Season 5 BTS fanfiction challenge.


**WARNING: This fic eludes to spoilers derived from Season 5 sneak peaks and released photos. If you are dodging any and all Season 5 goodness please do not read as it mentions a photo AMC released as well as footage from the sneak peak trailer. **

Daryl didn't recall much about the escape but he remembered spitting out that damned gag some punk had shoved into his mouth before he'd caught sight of Glenn, appearing through the smoky haze like some sort of 80's action hero. By some force of divine intervention the younger man had found Daryl's crossbow and wordlessly handed the weapon back to its owner before turning on his heel and leading them both the fuck out of there.

Even now, days after they had managed to escape Daryl could still detect the oil from that rag skirting around the edge of his tastebuds. The bitter tang reminded him how close he had come to staring death in the face once more. First chance they got to scout for food he was going to find something…anything to get that lingering taste out of his mouth.

Unfortunately, fresh breath would have to wait though. There wasn't any time to hunt down a 7/11 in search of a pack of gum. They had to keep their heads about them and they had to keep pushing forward.

The group of survivors had spent their first few hours of new found freedom crashing through the forest at breakneck speed in an effort to put some much needed distance between them and the shithole they'd just fled. The fabled sanctuary had turned out to be nothing more than an elaborate ruse designed to herd the living towards a place that even the dead steered clear of. The sick fucks responsible for corralling them all into that train car wouldn't take the escape of their prisoners lying down, Daryl was certain of that. While the group from the train car hadn't sustained any casualties the Terminus assholes hadn't been so lucky.

One thing Daryl clearly remembered when he'd followed Glenn out of that smoking wasteland was the trail of fresh corpses scattered haphazardly across the yard from one side to the other. He'd had to step over more bodies then he'd had time to count when they'd climbed through the breach in the fence and gotten the Hell out of dodge.

Rick hadn't been lying when he'd said those assholes didn't know who they were screwing with.

Whatever had transpired between the time Daryl had been dragged from the train car and the shit hitting the fan one thing was certain; the Terminus people weren't going to just let the lot of them waltz out of there with no hard feelings. Blood called for blood nowadays, and people had a nasty habit of swiftly calling in debts owed.

The group had covered a fair amount of ground in the first twenty-four hours, stopping only for brief periods here or there to catch their breath and regroup. Despite Glenn, Maggie and the others being trapped in that car for Lord knew how long they all pushed through their pain and exhaustion and kept moving forward. Even the dude with the mullet managed to keep pace fairly well, albeit he was bringing up the rear but he was still with them none the less.

Every so often Daryl would cast a glance over his shoulder, just to confirm the column of smoke pinpointing the location of Terminus was growing smaller and smaller in the distance behind them. He had a keen sense of direction and was a capable tracker but the man wasn't a machine. Last thing they needed was to get turned around due to lack of sleep and end up back at that damn freak show.

The pace was proving to be too much for everyone to handle by the close of the second day. They were all scared shitless and the strain was starting to show. When they did speak tempers were quick to flair. The big redhead dude had taken to referring to Daryl as _'__Mr Redneck'_,just to get a rise out of him. It stemmed from none of them having the time to stop and learn names, but the moniker still got under the hunter's skin, regardless of the reason.

Every sound put them on edge. Every shadow held a potential killer from their eyes. They were running on empty and pretty soon they were going to crash and burn. The adrenaline that had been coursing through their veins finally ebbed away, leaving only aching muscles and empty stomachs in its place. Everyone was exhausted and hungry. What they needed was to hole up somewhere and regroup. Take a minute to breathe before pushing forward into the wilderness once more.

It was on one of their brief rest stops that Daryl heard a twig snapping up somewhere ahead, alerting him to someone or something else in the immediate area. The hunter froze, his ears straining and his breath stilled as he listened to the sounds of the forest surrounding the group. Whatever was out there could have been anything; a deer, a Terminus residence looking to extract his pound of flesh…it could have even been a walker out searching for his next meal.

Rick glanced at Daryl and nodded, signalling he too had heard whatever was lying ahead. Behind him, the hunter felt the group collectively tense. Their rest stop would have to wait for now.

Another twig snapped, this one louder than the last one. That second sound was all it took for the hunter to know it wasn't a deer out there in front of them. What it sounded like was a pair of boots trampling the underbrush.

Last time he checked Bambi never wore boots.

Daryl reached for the strap of his bow, drawing the weapon over his shoulder and quickly lining up the sight. His finger hovered over the trigger as he released a shaky breath, preparing to let a bolt loose at whatever threat, living or dead, was lurking just beyond the low hanging branches overhead. The hunter took a tentative step forward, ducking his head down in an effort to catch a glimpse of just what exactly the danger was.

Standing before him in the distance was a woman. From the waist up she was still partially obscured by the leafy foliage hanging between them but he didn't need to see her face to know who it was.

He'd know _her_ anywhere.

She was alive. After everything they'd all been through, all the shit that'd been thrown their way she was alive and she was there, right before his eyes. The sight of her sudden reappearance was enough to make Daryl lower the crossbow, the weapon slipping through his fingers and landing on the leaf-covered forest floor with a loud thud. He didn't give a shit about letting his prized possession hit the dirt like it was nothing more than a discarded child's toy. She was there and that was all that mattered.

The audible crash of metal connecting with solid ground echoed through the forest, capturing the woman's attention instantly. Her hand flew to the knuckleduster handle of her knife and her head snapped sharply to the left, searching for the source of the disturbance. The gambit of emotions played across her face the moment she realized it was friend not foe standing before her. Her eyes flickered past his shoulder, widening when they landed on the group standing at his back. Finally she returned her eyes to his and tentatively smiled.

God, he never thought he'd see that smile again. The dread and fear that had been swirling around inside of him disappeared the moment that smile tugged at her lips. A rustling of leaves forced Daryl's attention to the space just behind the woman. What he saw made his blood run cold and the momentary relief he'd felt die instantly, instead replaced with a gaping sense of panic.

A walker had stumbled out of the underbrush and was headed straight for the unsuspecting woman. The son-of-a-bitch was moving quietly too. One look at her face and the hunter knew she hadn't heard the impending danger that was rapidly approaching. Daryl watched in horror as the creature gained on her, stretching its rotting fingers out, ready to rip into the exposed skin of her arm where her sleeve had ridden up...

"CAROL!" The strangled cry escaped his lips and Daryl was lunged forward, his sights set firmly on the walker and the woman about to get bit. Even at his fast pace he knew the geek would reach her before he did. The walker was too close and he was too far away. If his crossbow wasn't lying in the dirt behind him that would have been something, but he couldn't run the risk of taking his eyes off the stealthy bastard for one second.

He'd already lost her too many times when his back was turned. He wasn't running the risk of taking his eyes off her for one second now just to lose her again.

The woman looked confused for a moment before she spun around, bringing her face to face with the walking corpse stretching its rotting fingers her way. Daryl watched as she raised her arm high and the silver blade of her knuckle duster caught the light filtering through the canopy of leaves overhead, the glint sending a shard of shattered rainbows across the woodland floor. Without hesitation Carol proceed to bury the blade hilt-deep in the skull of her would-be attacker, bringing the undead creature and the sprinting Dixon to simultaneous halts on either side of her.

Daryl knew she could take care of herself. The woman had proven time and time again that she was a survivor. Beth had told him that he'd be the last man standing but he knew the girl had been wrong; Carol would be the one to outlive them all, no doubt about it.

The entire scene had played out in slow-motion as Daryl watched dumbfounded. Carol pulled her blade free of the walker's head and dropped the dead weight to the ground. She turned back to face him once more, letting out a relieved breath as she moved. Blood dripped from her blade, splashing onto the fallen leaves carpeting the forest floor. Without stopping to think about what he was doing Daryl reached out and wrapped his arms around the woman, crushing her body tightly against his own. The need to feel her close, to confirm that she was really there and not just some figment of his imagination brought on by starvation and dehydration was overpowering. She froze in his grasp, obviously taken aback by the display of affection. After what seemed like an eternity Carol slowly wound her arms up around his neck and drew him closer, letting her head settle in the crook of his neck.

The last time he had held her so close she had been near death in the tombs. That day had been one of the best and worst of his life.

"Hi Pookie," she greeted, her voice barely above a whisper. He felt a dampness settling on his shoulder and he realized she was silently crying into his shirt.

The hunter drew back slightly, allowing some space between them. He still kept his arms banded firmly around her waist though. He'd been serious about not letting her out of his sight again. Apparently, that idea was extending to not letting her out of his grasp either. At least, not yet anyway. Not until he was sure she wasn't going anywhere else.

"Rick told you?" she asked quietly.

He didn't have to ask what she was referring to; the hunter had been able to read her like a book for some time now. The man nodded in response, unable to find the right words to speak to her yet. The hunter had missed her more than he'd cared to admit. Aside from Merle, Daryl had never had that type of dependency on another person before. It was a foreign feeling but not an unwelcome one.

No one could do it on their own no more. He'd known that truth for a while now but now, standing there with his arms wrapped securely around Carol, he finally had a deeper understanding and appreciation of the concept.

The woman nodded to herself, dropping her chin down to hide the tears threatening to spill forth. He didn't miss the way she reached up and swiped at her eye though. Carol sighed heavily, the action making her shift in his arms. Daryl refused to loosen his hold. Having her there like that just felt good. It felt _right._

A second tear tickled down her face but before she could try and deny its existence Daryl's thumb was there, tilting her face back up towards his and catching the droplet on his calloused skin in the process. He told himself he was just trying to comfort her, to let her know that, despite Rick kicking her ass out, he was there for her, just like he'd always been. The thing was though, after the tear had gone his hand was still on her, cupping her cheek while he gazed into her eyes. Carol's hand landed on top of his own, holding him in place and forbidding him from pulling away.

What shocked Daryl was he didn't want to pull away from her touch. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to hold on tighter and never let go.

Something was changing between them. Whatever it was had always been there, but Daryl had ignored the feeling, pushing it down and denying its existence. He had always thought he wasn't good enough for someone like her, but the devil that whispered notions of failure and worthlessness in his ear was uncharacteristically quiet the longer he gazed at her face.

With any luck that bastard was dead and gone for good.

A familiar gurgling pulled Daryl's attention away from the woman in his arms and back to reality. His gaze slid over her head and aimed squarely at the intimidating form of Tyreese. The man was passing a giggling Judith off the Rick in one hand while trying to hug his sister with the other. The sight of that baby alive and well made his chest swell. Finally, their family was reunited. Seemed like Daryl had missed a few things while he was wrapped up in Carol. One thing he didn't miss though was the way Carol's bag was casually slung over the other man's shoulder.

Seemed Carol had found herself an unlikely ally in the form of the man whose girlfriend she killed.

"What about-?" he started, motioning towards the man Carol had obviously been travelling with.

"He knows," she said, silencing the question before it even left his mouth. "He forgave me." The woman sniffled, loosening the hold she had on his hand. "Can you?" she asked, searching his face for the answer.

Daryl brought his forehead down to connect with hers, the both of them sighing contentedly at the contact. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and savouring the sensation of having Carol her there, right where she belonged. If he was a smarter man he would have worked out sooner that they should have been doing this a long time ago.

"You did what you did to save lives. I'd have done the same thing."

The woman sighed, letting her body meld back into his. The proximity of her soft body curling around his was having another effect on Daryl aside from relief. Whatever had been growing between them in the last year was slowly taking root, flourishing in the fresh sunlight after spending two lifetimes shrouded in darkness.

He wanted to do more than just hold her, but there was no way in Hell he was making a move when the taste of grease was still lingering in his mouth and they had a damned audience watching their every move.

"So," the big redhead drawled, interrupting Daryl's thoughts on where he might be able to find some wild mint or something equally breath-freshening, "I take it we just found Mrs Redneck?"

For the first time since fleeing the Terminus, Daryl wasn't riled up by the smart mouthed guy's use of that name. Judging by the snort of amused laughter that escaped the woman, neither did she.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Firstly I must apologise for the title. I was racking my brain for what to call this piece and honestly, the Bambi line was all that stood out. Normally when I feel right about a fic the title is a no-brainer, but this one was unco-operative. **

**This one-shot was written in response to the USS CARYL's Season 5 BTS fanfiction challenge. The aim was to write something inspired by the Season 5 photos/sneak peak we've seen so far. As you may have guesses, I used the bound and gagged Daryl photo released a few days ago (thank you AMC!) as well as footage from the BTS special where Daryl and the gang are in the woods and he runs towards something off-screen and the section where Carol, who also happens to be in the woods, puts a walker down by stabbing it in the head. I just wanted to have fun with what we've caught a glimpse of so far. I don't think a Caryl reunion will go remotely like this but I can dream, can't I?**

**I hope you enjoyed this little foray into the future. **


End file.
